Literary Master 1978.

Chapter 187 Deep love, deep responsibility

Although he despised Zhu Changsheng in his heart, Xiao Yao felt that his idea was good. As long as he could send these letters, he would feel a lot more relaxed.

The two of them spent a lot of time picking out two packages of letters, and after work, they ran to the Overseas Chinese Apartment with the letters.

"Old Zhu, what's going on?"

The two men carried two large sacks upstairs. Lin Chaoyang was stunned when he opened the door.

"Hasn't The Death of Van Gogh been published? Recently, readers have been very enthusiastic about writing letters, and many of them are written specifically for you. You must read them carefully and reply to these readers with your heart."

Zhu Changsheng and Xiao Yao put the sack in the living room. He wiped the non-existent sweat stains on his forehead and said, panting, "These letters have been carefully selected by our editorial department. They are all enthusiastic readers."

When Zhu Changsheng was talking, Xiao Yao looked at him secretly. He had never noticed before that Old Zhu could lie without blinking.

"There are so many letters, where is the place to put them at home?" Lin Chaoyang complained.

"If your family has no space, then we have even less space. Besides, didn't you just buy a courtyard house some time ago?"

"I didn't buy the courtyard house to store letters. The place hasn't been vacated yet."

"Wouldn't there be room if we vacated it?"

Zhu Changsheng chatted with Lin Chaoyang for a few words and the matter of the letter was forgotten. He smelled the fragrance coming from the kitchen.

"Wow! This smells so good!"

Lin Chaoyang said sarcastically: "I don't think you are here to deliver a letter, but rather to get a free meal."

"I don't agree with that. We are also working for you when we deliver mail. Landlords have to provide meals for hired laborers."

"To be able to get to this level by eating for free can be considered as freeloading and gaining experience."

The two men had a familiar relationship and spoke in a lighthearted and cheerful tone. Xiao Yao couldn't help but admire Lao Zhu.

The old comrade is not only shrewd and resourceful, but also has a very good relationship with writers.

Lin Chaoyang's family had dinner with sauerkraut and pork belly. The sauerkraut was made by Zhang Guiqin after winter came.

Before winter, the family bought hundreds of kilograms of cabbage for winter storage. In order to collect the sauerkraut, Lin Chaoyang specially bought a large jar.

The method of making sauerkraut is very simple. Remove the roots and old stalks of the cabbage, blanch it in hot water, drain it, and then stack it in a large vat.

After the cabbage is full, put a big stone on it and wait for the cabbage to slowly ferment.

The temperature of the pickled cabbage cannot be too high or too low. Lin Chaoyang's home has heating, so the temperature is too high. The outdoor temperature is too low, which is not good either.

After searching for a long time, I found the temperature in the corridor was just right.

However, this is a public area, and it would be ungentle to use it to store your own things.

Lin Chaoyang specially ran up and down the stairs and delivered a few kilograms of cabbage to a family. He also agreed to give it to the neighbors after the sauerkraut was ready to be tasted, and then he put the sauerkraut jar in the corridor.

People who can live in the Overseas Chinese Apartments don't mind these few cabbages; what's important is etiquette.

The dish of sauerkraut is not unfamiliar to the people of Yanjing, and many families in Yanjing also eat sauerkraut in winter.

As the aroma wafting from the kitchen became stronger and stronger, not only Zhu Changsheng, but even Xiao Yao couldn't help swallowing their saliva.

The Northeastern sauerkraut and pork belly is a pig-killing dish, but unlike the greasy pig-killing dishes that many people have in mind, the sauerkraut and pork belly tastes refreshing and delicious.

The sauerkraut that has been rinsed with cold water twice is sour and light, with a fragrant taste. The broth used to stew the sauerkraut is fragrant and absorbs all the fat in the pork belly, making the originally greasy pork belly become refreshing.

A piece of pork belly is sandwiched between shredded sauerkraut. It is still steaming hot when it is picked up. Dip it in a little garlic soy sauce and put it in your mouth. It is sour, fragrant and delicious, not greasy.

Zhu Changsheng and Xiao Yao were eating with their mouths full of oil and picking up food with their chopsticks non-stop, which made Zhang Guiqin, who was standing beside them, look worried.

If you say you want to eat for free, then just eat. Why are you not polite at all? You even finished two bowls of rice without stopping.

"Chaoyang, your pickled cabbage and pork is absolutely amazing. I haven't eaten anything this delicious in all the years I've been in Yanjing!"

After the meal, Zhu Changsheng looked very satisfied, even a little tipsy.

After leaving Lin Chaoyang's house, Xiao Yao said with emotion: "Everyone says that the food at Lin Chaoyang's house tastes good. After eating it today, I found that it really lives up to its reputation."

Zhu Changsheng got on the bicycle and found that his stomach was a little tight, so he deliberately loosened his belt.

"If it doesn't taste good, who would tell me about it? I heard someone say that their restaurant is called Xunweizhai. Hehe, the name is not wrong."

Xiao Yao looked back at the lights upstairs and said, "It's a pity that there's only one dish today."

Zhu Changsheng joked: "Having vegetables and meat is not enough? You have high requirements for free meals!"

"I want to try more of his dishes."

"That's easy. Next time we have time, let's buy some meat and vegetables and let Chaoyang cook with us."

Xiao Yao said: "What a great honor that would be!"

She didn't have much contact with Lin Chaoyang. Distance creates beauty and distance also creates awe. In the eyes of this young editor, Lin Chaoyang was a top figure in the literary world and he cooked specifically for her. Such treatment was unimaginable.

"Ah, that's wrong!" Zhu Changsheng almost had the words "shrewd and calculating" written on his face. He taught earnestly: "If you ask someone who loves cooking to cook for you, it will be more useful than saying a hundred nice words to him. Do you think I'm here just to deliver a letter to him today?"

Xiao Yao looks confused, isn't it?
"Sending the letter is just an excuse, you have to handle this relationship!

Look, did we have a meal at their house today? Do you have an excuse to treat him to a meal next time? If he doesn't want to eat, you can buy some food and ask him to cook.

After a few visits, won't the relationship become closer? If the relationship is good, why worry about not getting a manuscript?"

Xiao Yao was stunned by Zhu Changsheng's "manuscript compilation experience", and he unconsciously felt a bit of awe in his heart.

How can Old Zhu be called shrewd and cunning? He is clearly extremely cunning!

Zhu Changsheng and Xiao Yao were here just now. Lin Erchun and Zhang Guiqin suppressed their curiosity. After the two left, the couple went to the sack.

"Chaoyang, are these all letters written to you? How many letters are there?"

"I don't know, maybe three or four thousand." Lin Chaoyang estimated. "So many?" Zhang Guiqin was surprised.

"It's not that much. Each issue of Contemporary Magazine sells hundreds of thousands of copies. There are thousands of letters here, and the readers who write letters may not even account for one percent."

In the past, they only knew that their son wrote well, could earn royalties to buy a big house, and became a great writer, but Zhang Guiqin and Lin Erchun never had any concrete concept.

Today, after seeing the letters from readers sent by Zhu Changsheng and Xiao Yao, I found that they finally had some concrete understanding.

The two people just now said that this was only a part of it. How much would it be if it were all?
"Do we have to reply to all these letters?"

Lin Erchun asked a key question.

In his mind, his son is a great writer, and his writings can be sold for money. How much compensation would he have to pay if he had to reply to so many letters?
Lin Chaoyang smiled and said, "How can I reply to all of them? Just pick a few and reply."

"Stamps cost a lot of money!" Lin Erchun muttered.

"All you know how to do is calculate. This is what the readers want." Zhang Guiqin accused.

"What happened to the readers? No money? Can stamps be obtained for free?"

The couple quarreled for a few sentences and then ignored each other.

Lin Chaoyang took the two sacks of letters to the study, then poured them out and opened them one by one.

Tao Yushu walked in and saw how messy he was, so he said, "Let me help you open the letter."

"it is good."

The two of them sat opposite each other on the desk, opening and reading the letters together.

Lin Chaoyang read a letter from Luoyang, Henan, written by an employee of the Cultural Bureau.

“This novel is not only a clever fusion of suspense and history, but also a loving tribute to art and humanity.

While reading the novel, I seemed to follow Aaron's footsteps through the corridor of time and space, stand beside Mr. Van Gogh, and feel his sensitive and passionate heart.

Every detail in the novel, whether it is the delicate portrayal of Van Gogh's inner world or the clever integration of the stories behind Van Gogh's paintings, is shocking.

Especially when Aaron's figure overlaps with Van Gogh at the end of the novel, and he witnesses the recognition and praise of his work in the modern art gallery.

The touching moment brought tears to my eyes. This is not only a belated recognition of Van Gogh's artistic achievements, but also an encouragement to all those who persist in their dreams. "

This comrade's reading experience was very good, so he had to write a reply. Lin Chaoyang put the letter back into the envelope and placed it in a corner of the desk, then opened another letter.

This letter was just average. It only praised the letter but didn't say how it was good. It was a bad review. He stuffed the letter back into the envelope and put it into the empty sack.
"Hey, look at this letter, it was written by a second-year junior high school student."

Tao Yushu handed over a letter. Lin Chaoyang took a look at the sender. It was sent from Xiangtan, Hunan. The letter began with "Dear Uncle Xu Lingjun".

“Through Aaron’s eyes, I seemed to have personally experienced the hardships and struggles of Van Gogh on his artistic path, and also witnessed his unremitting pursuit of beauty.

The delicate description of Van Gogh's psychological state in the novel gave me a new understanding of this unfamiliar artist. He is no longer an empty name, but a person with flesh and blood, strong emotions and an unyielding soul.

The biggest feeling I got after reading your novel is that we should cherish every unique creation and expression, because it is these unique creations and expressions that will change the world.

I am grateful for this work that has given me such inspiration. It will undoubtedly become a valuable spiritual asset in my life journey. I look forward to more excellent works in the future that will continue to enlighten our minds. "

After reading the letter, Lin Chaoyang asked, "Was this written by a junior high school student?"

Tao Yushu smiled and said, "It must be a family of intellectuals, or someone in the family is engaged in art and is precocious. Or maybe an adult wrote it for him, but I don't think that's the case."

Lin Chaoyang nodded. Indeed, it was just a letter from a reader.

He put the letter on the desk. He had to reply to such a thoughtful little reader.

"Why is this letter so thick?" Tao Yushu said as she opened a thick envelope. After taking a few glances, she couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"What's wrong?" Lin Chaoyang asked.

Tao Yushu handed over the letter and said, "Read it yourself."

Judging from the tone of the letter writer, he should be a college student.

"…The appearance of The Death of Van Gogh is a huge setback in your literary creation. Compared with the sophisticated skills you showed in The Summer of Lai Zi, the stream-of-consciousness literary technique in The Death of Van Gogh can be said to be clumsy.

I think that the Death of Van Gogh is a brilliant film, but you structured it in a rigid linear way, wasting the brilliant conception and novel concepts such as time travel and space transformation.

When you use dreams and hallucinations to show the complexity of Van Gogh's inner world, some of your treatments are too vulgar..."

Lin Chaoyang figured out why Tao Yushu laughed out loud. The whole letter was sixteen pages long and contained nearly ten thousand words.

If you say he likes "The Death of Van Gogh", he will criticize the novel and the author Lin Chaoyang harshly; if you say he doesn't like "The Death of Van Gogh", he can write a 10,000-word review on it.

"This young man is a talent!"

After reading the letter, Lin Chaoyang was not angry. Instead, he was as happy as Tao Yushu.

Seeing his expression, Tao Yushu asked, "He is so picky about these contents, aren't you angry?"

Lin Chaoyang said casually, "The novel is already written, so it's up to others to comment on it, just don't curse at them. His theoretical knowledge is quite solid, probably because he studied Chinese. You're right to nitpick, probably because he treats my novel as a world-famous masterpiece."

"Is there a sentence you haven't heard?" Lin Chaoyang asked.

"What?"

"The deeper the love, the more severe the criticism."

Tao Yushu laughed speechlessly, "No wonder you are in such a good mood, you are really good at comforting yourself. Then do you want to write a letter back to this enthusiastic reader of yours?"

"I have to write one back. It will take a long time just to copy so many pages. Besides, you can't write something so detailed without reading the novel several times."

Lin Chaoyang took the envelope with a smile, and when he saw the sender on it, he was stunned for a moment.

(End of this chapter)